Gardens

We are gardens, through and through.
Raised with the river of Eden in our blood.

Touched by the line of Adam, living through the grace of Eve. Pushed out into a world we had not known. Her words, she gave to us, merely whispers and echoes of worlds to come, with or without us. Her strength she covered us in as her story became ashes, living in you, living through us.

We are Women, we say to this world.
You are just a woman, the world says to us.

This world, full of its ideals, full of its projection, full or its assumptions of how to walk as the Women we were made to be. We have known many women, all within this lifetime, all within our beings. Some we carry along, some we let have their rightful death, some that have yet to come…

Yet wait, dormant beneath the surface ready to emerge.

This relationship, the one of you to the world, the you that is hidden within, it is just an extension, perhaps a mirror of what you already know of yourself.

It is the unraveling of the tapestry. The words of rejection. The string of entanglement. The feelings of praise. The comfort of a hand you know. The weight of endless possibilities held along horizons we have yet discovered that will bring about strength and the future women within us, each with their own calling, each with their own death.

It is the necessary dying that births us and lays us to rest,
all at the hands of perseverance.
The only road leading back to the garden we were meant for…

The garden within you and I.